


Do not be scared. I am here

by Oberyn2206



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Adoption, Family, Family Fluff, Gen, Graf needs more love and so does Herbert, little Herbert, protective Graf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-27 00:04:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15012326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oberyn2206/pseuds/Oberyn2206
Summary: “What about your father?”“I don’t know.” Herbert muttered. “I’ve never met him. But mama always said I would find him one day.”





	Do not be scared. I am here

The mountain lilies of the early days of summer had bloomed splendidly, and under the dim light of the purple sky that was about to break into dawn in no long time, the white petals were wet and sparkled with night dew. The flora rustled under the feet of the lord of the Transylvanian mountains, as he knelt by a lily flower bed. Long fingers caressed the soft petals, before choosing those lilies that he found the most beautiful, and picked them up. He neither brought them to his nose, nor tried to take in the smell of the flowers that was floating in the air, for he was not into flowers. But his wife did, and she would love these gorgeous creations of nature.

More and more dew appeared on the plants, and at one point, one could notice that they were no longer dew, but raindrops, the very first rain of summer. Took a great leap into the sky, he flew to the nearby village with no hesitation, and landed on a deserted ground, in front of a large gate.

The gate was made of no iron or steel, but silver, to prevent those “people” like the lord himself to enter what was so called the cemetery, to the belief of the villagers. He could have taken another leap past the barrier from above, without unlocking or damaging the lock, but, he didn’t. Closing his eyes, he hissed slightly as he felt the burning of his palm when he touched the gate, gently opened it, recalled of the time he was still able to touch sliver with fondness instead of pain, just only to see his skin red and hurt when he finally entered.

A little chapel-like tomb was where his wife lay, forgotten by everyone but him in a corner of the cemetery for ages after ages. The raindrops dripped and dripped from his wet clothes and hair, leaving trails of water drops on the way he entered the dark tomb. Once upon a summer, he and his wife had walked together under a shower rain, both soaked with water just like him at the moment. His cape covered her from the pouring shower, as she turned to smile at him, which made him dumfounded in confusion, before she tip-toed to kiss him square on the lips. He had smiled. She was here with him, had always been. But now it was only him who got wet, and on his lips was no warm breath of her, but only the bitter taste of the dusty air.

He spent the next day in the darkness of the tomb, leaning his head to the coffin where his wife lay. The spider-webs were swept all away as well as the dust, and the bunch of lilies he had picked before now lay neatly on top of the coffin. The nice smell of the new lit candle brought back memories, beautiful ones. He missed that night when they both had returned home from the rain, cuddling together by the warm fire, a fire that sparked up with happiness in his eyes, and sparked up a flame of a new life that was about to form in his wife.

“Herbert.” She mumbled, pressing her head onto his chest. “I want our child to be named Herbert.”

“Herbert? Are you already sure it’s going to be a boy?”

“A boy or a girl doesn’t matter. I just want our child to be named Herbert.” She smiled to herself as she hummed softly. “A splendid and mighty warrior.”

He chuckled, but agreed no matter what. He could never refuse her anything. He had never known, that the flame would go out so soon, left him in this cold and cruel world of darkness.

Miserable. Alone.

 

A small figure was curling up on the now full-of-puddles and silted way led to the Krolock castle. The nearer the lord came towards it, the clearer he could figure out that it was a little child, spattered with mud, slightly trembled while it slept in its own damp clothes. Apparently, it had wandered in the pouring rain with no shelter. Who could ever have the heart to cast it away in a harsh and desolated mountain peak like this, the lord had no clue, but he found himself, who he thought to have been cold and soulless for eternity, couldn’t find it in his heart to leave the child here. 

The child was a boy who was at the age of about ten, but must be even younger, the lord studied, and the little one was surprisingly unhealthily light when he gathered him up in his arms. His limbs were bony and extraordinary long and he was so thin, the boy was not even enough to be a fine meal for a pack of wolves if the lord ever decided to ignore him. Between unconciousness and awakening, strange snowy white hair nuzzled the lord’s chest, searching for a warmth that even the summer on high mountains could never offer. The lord could feel the hot blood and every vein running weakly under the child’s lively skin when tiny palms touched his hands, slightly seized them, but for once in his “life”, he would never understand, he was not able to dare drain the blood from him, could not ever have the heart to end the child’s whatever suffer right there and then.

 “Mama?”

The child’s lips moved slowly, while his exhausted eyelids started to flutter as dreams still conquered him. A tall figure with soft long hair carrying him made him smile, yet the smile was somehow bitter, the strength left was not enough that his whispers were almost inaudible. “Mama, hold me.”

“There, save your strength. I got you.” The lord chuckled, took the boy in a tighter embrace.

“It’s too dark… I’m scared.”

“Hush, little one. It’s alright.”

The lord’s voice suddenly grew deep and small, just enough for the child to hear and be soothed quiet. An unexpected acquaintance had arrived, and to the lord’s least favourite, he hoped it had been someone, or something, else than a shape-shifter who could turn into a beast and lay havoc on not only human but also his kind.

 

“You are out hunting early tonight.”

 

The hoarse voice belonged to a human-like creature, his golden orbs sparkled and fur-like lines on his face got more obvious as he appeared from the dark. Circling around the lord, he cocked his head in curiousity when he noticed the lord just kept folding his arms across his chest, with the cape covering himself in a way which was odd.

The man could not help letting out a teasing chuckle: “Already trying to keep the prey for yourself? Oh, you’re so selfish.”

“I do not know what you are talking about.” The lord of the Transylvanian mountains remained calm.

“Or are you pretending not to know?” The man asked again, only intended to tease for a while. His bushy brows raised cheekily as he focused on what the lord was covering. “Your Excellency, I can tell that its scent is all over your body. The smell of fresh flesh, how nice. I can distinguish it from the decaying rotten one of yours.”

The lord grimaced at the insult. He could make it into a fight, choke that creature to death right here, right now, but that would be risky when there was a frail baby in need of protection. He refused to reveal the boy. But he didn't expect his arm to be yanked off violently by the man, exposing the sleeping boy curling up in his other arm.

“He’s not yours.” He warned.

“Oh, of course I know, your Excellency.” The man faked a laugh, now aiming at the little boy. “But you see, food in our land has been scarce recently. We always have to travel so far to get some morsels…”

“So?”

“So, sharing is a good way for both of us at the moment… don’t you think? You only need its precious red liquid, and I won’t have to intrude your land just to get some piece of flesh, or travel down to the far-away villages and towns to hunt. It would be better…” The man sneered, his claw-like nails traced along the now woken child’s cheeks and chin, caressed them, made the poor boy tremble and whimper, clutch tighter to the lord’s chest, as if the lord was now the only protector he could have. “…if we shared him. You take the blood, and I take the meat.” The man grinned mischieviously at the boy, suggested, and poor little one began to sob.

“I will not let you take advantage on a vulnerable child like this. Not in my territory.” The lord gritted his teeth and stepped one step back, protecting the child.

“Please, my lord. Grant me a grace this time.” The man begged. It could not soften the lord one bit.

“This boy is not a meal.”

“Your Excellency…”

The man lowered his voice, his mind flicked out a thought of what he expected least from the landlord. His tone quickly turned into a mocking one, and he narrowed his eyes. “The count of Krolock, now is growing affection and sympathy towards a little human child. Pathetic.”

“You may say what you like, but I found him, and therefore, you have no right here to decide what is going to happen with his fate. Hurt a strand of his hair, and you will face my wrath.”

“He’s still a human. Sooner or later, his life will be ended under your hands.” The man wrinkled his nose, full of disgust. His species and the lord’s had never lived together in perfect harmony, and since the latter’s kind had always been seen as the inferior one for being moonstruck nocturnal creatures between dead and living things, it was so absurd and pushed him on his nerves that that lord wanted to keep his prey alive. But like many said, the so called count of Krolock was sometimes bit of a thick skull, so now there was nothing could change his ground.

Moreover, the beastlike man was not a dumb person.

Though his species were one-of-a-kind, known for being aggressive and warlike, he liked to choose what way was the best convenient and most peaceful for him. Knowing that if even they fought over the child, there would be nothing left at all for him to chew on when the battle was over, the man decided to leave with a grumble.

 

The boy was still shocked from what he had just seen and heard, knowing that he was too small, too fragile, that he was in danger. His sobbing burst out into tears pouring down his cheeks when the count looked back at him.

“What’s your name, little one?”

The count’s tone was surprisingly calm and soothing, made the boy struggle to find his words between whimpers.

“Herbert…”

“What a beautiful name.” The count’s gaze softened as well as his voice, his fingers gently tugged the strands of hair from the boy’s forehead to his ears, cold palms pressed against the boy’s cheeks, wiping the wetting tears, and the boy hiccupped. “How did you get here? Where’s your mother?”

“Passed away last year.”

“I’m sorry… Herbert.” The boy’s name passed the count’s lips like a whisper, and his eyes were filled with sorrow of a time the boy could never known. “What about your father?”

“I don’t know.” Herbert muttered. “I’ve never met him. But mama always said I would find him one day.”

The count let out a sigh. This boy was desperately in need of a home. A family. In need of a family, just like him. In a moment of feelings he could not explain, his heart seemed to beat once more, and he reached down to kiss the boy’s brows. He asked, voice smooth like silk: “Do you know who I am?”

“The count of Krolock?”

“Clever boy.” He chuckled. “But do you know who else I am?”

“No.” The boy whispered. “I don’t. Who are you?”

“Herbert, I am your father.”

The corner of the boy’s lips curled up in a crooked grin as he started to cry louder, his weak little arms wrapped around the count’s neck in a moment of happiness, and he chirped like a little magpie, nuzzling the count’s hair. He would never let go of the count. The count of Krolock could not hold his tears, either, and he held the now son of his in a tight embrace.

“Do not be scared. I am here.”

 


End file.
